


Most Omnipotent Goddess

by Flairina



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: Angels, Crack Treated Seriously, Demons, Elemental Magic, Fallen Angels, Gen, Girls With Swords, Girls With Whips, Girls with Guns, Goddesses, Gods, Humor, Look they've got a lot of weapons okay?, Self-Insert, That's the joke, Time Travel, and thereby this, blame the Monika SI for this, that led to the nickname of "Least Omnipotent Goddess", yes I seriously inserted myself as a goddess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27480613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flairina/pseuds/Flairina
Summary: They say God works in mysterious ways, and they're right.I'd know. I am her. Apparently.(Jubileus SI - yes, seriously)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 64





	1. Apotheosis (or, God Damn It)

**Author's Note:**

> Better read on [Spacebattles](https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/most-omnipotent-goddess-bayonetta-jubileus-si-yes-really.896337/) or [Sufficient Velocity](https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/most-omnipotent-goddess-bayonetta-jubileus-si-yes-really.82251/) due to formatting differences and default color choices. If you cannot read the font this story utilizes, please try one of those sites instead. If your device cannot _load_ the font this story utilizes, try [this.](https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/most-omnipotent-goddess-bayonetta-jubileus-si-yes-really.896337/page-4#post-71885064)

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that I seem to be resting in the fetal position for some reason — my legs are drawn almost all the way up to my chest, with my crossed arms resting on top of them. It's actually rather uncomfortable, and I'm honestly not sure how I even managed to fall asleep this way.  
  
The second thing I notice is that I'm floating.  
  
Floating inside some sort of large, semi-transparent reddish sphere, the surface of which is intermittently pulsing with arcane-looking symbols.  
  
Outside of which is **outer space**.  
  
I blink rapidly, my mouth falling open slightly in utter bafflement.  
  
What... the...?  
  
My gaze shifts downwards, and my confusion only mounts further as I realize that my skin has somehow turned pure white, though it's shot through by several snake-like lines of red running in undulating waves up and down my curves — curves I don't exactly remember having last I checked. On that note, I also don't appear to have even a stitch of clothing on, my only apparent concession to modesty consisting of a pair of bracelets, anklets, and thighlets each, along with some sort of beaded necklace thing encircling my waist. Why the hell am I practically naked?!  
  
I pull my legs even tighter to my chest in reflexive embarrassment, only to realize that my upper arms appear to have _wings_ sprouting from them, matching my knees, which are covered with similarly feathered ornamentation. There's also a semi-translucent red ribbon draped just above both my elbows, and I can feel a weight on my head and a mask on my face and there's some sort of golden _disc_ set into my collarbone-  
  
“— _I'm_ off to get that black cat.”  
  
Startled, I glance past myself and down at the source of the voice — at the bottom of the sphere, a woman with a complex hairdo that literally fades into her tight black outfit is standing with a gun held out in front of her. Though I heard her voice just fine, she looks absolutely minuscule to me, barely more than a few inches tall... but that's not enough to stop me from recognizing her.  
  
I gape openly. That- that's Bayonetta. As in Bayonetta the Umbran Witch, the protagonist of the video game series that shares her name. And this sphere — this is from the final stage of her first game, where she fights...  
  
I look down at myself again, the motion of my neck causing the seven huge, hair-like ribbons attached to my headdress to ripple out and encircle me on all sides. Each one of them shines like gold, backlit by the brilliant light spilling forth from the enormous, impossibly intricate halo hovering behind me.  
  
[**Jubileus**](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/bf65a075-128f-405e-ba49-7ff586654fec/de8em7l-da370755-8b91-4498-9d5e-831cce61b65d.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3sicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYmY2NWEwNzUtMTI4Zi00MDVlLWJhNDktN2ZmNTg2NjU0ZmVjXC9kZThlbTdsLWRhMzcwNzU1LThiOTEtNDQ5OC05ZDVlLTgzMWNjZTYxYjY1ZC5naWYifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6ZmlsZS5kb3dubG9hZCJdfQ.AqXB9Fm1CQXvapvzTwapBgsRIh4S08XnqmUGiQaV8Cc)...?!  
  
“Shall we get this started then?” Bayonetta quips from far below, staring up at me with an almost amused expression.  
  
I don't answer, too staggered by the apparent situation to even process the question. How am I- how did this-?!  
  
Bayonetta shrugs. “Well, if you're not going to take the initiative, I suppose I will.”  
  
In the next moment, she's turned into a panther and is sprinting forward up the right side of the sphere, gravity a clear non-factor here. Before I can so much as react to this, she leaps upwards and comes out of her transformation already swinging, punching forward towards my face.  
  
Feeling threatened despite her relative size compared to me, I recoil backwards — just in time to dodge the considerably larger fist of Madama Butterfly, which forms in midair and copies Bayonetta's motion. She's attacking me-!  
  
Bayonetta falls from the air and back to the bottom of the sphere, landing on her gun-heels without any apparent trouble. Wanting to stop this before it goes any further, I open my mouth.

**𝕾𝕿𝕺𝕻 **  
** (Stop!)**

The word twists in my throat as I attempt to speak it, taking on an entirely different sound before exiting my lips in a high, screechingly loud tone. I cringe slightly at my own volume, while Bayonetta herself barely flinches.  
  
“Hmm, no, I don't think I will.” she casually replies, transforming back to panther mode and beginning to run up the wall again.  
  
Not wanting to actually get punched, I try to move away, and end up instinctively floating towards the opposite side of the enclosure from Bayonetta, positioning myself on the “ceiling” relative to the part of it she's currently using as the ground. Then I move again as she sprints to where I just was, and again, and again, initiating an unending game of keep away as I desperately attempt to gather my thoughts.  
  
Okay, just- just stop panicking and think for a second. This is the final fight of the first game, right? Which means that Balder just resurrected... me, and is currently in my- erm, eye. Presumably with Loptr in tow in fact, assuming that the events of the second game still happened/will happen as well. Which is... bad, but also the only reason I/Jubileus isn't still sealed away, I think?  
  
I curl in on myself even further. Damn it, I wish I remembered this series' plot a little better! The story of the first game was confusing to begin with, and the multiple out-of-order time travel events in the second one didn't exactly help matters — though, hell, I don't even know if I didn't just _dream_ all that up to begin with now. I mean, I'm apparently Jubileus, AKA **God** with a capital G-  
  
Bayonetta suddenly transforms back to human form and skids to a halt, evidently having gotten fed up with orbiting the interior of this sphere like a cat chasing after the world's largest mouse. The guns in her hands vanish, replaced a moment later by a glowing red longsword I recognize as Shuraba. What is she-  
  
Bayonetta looks up at me before rapidly swinging her new weapon at the air in front of her. Upon the fifth slash, an ethereal blade ten times the actual one's size manifests near the bottom of my right-most hair-ribbon, which swings forward and bites deep into the statue-like face embedded just above the ribbon's tip.  
  
Despite appearing to only be part of my headdress, I guess the hair-ribbons are also physically attached to me, as a sensation like that of a bad papercut runs through the pseudo-limb and channels its way back up to the rest of me. I let out another screeching cry — more out of surprise than from actual pain — and follow it up with a second deafening protest.

** 𝕮𝖀𝕿 𝕴𝕿 𝕺𝖀𝕿 **  
**(Cut it out!)**

Once again, my words seem to morph midway between my brain and mouth, to the point that by the time I actually get the sentence out, it doesn't even sound like it's composed of the same syllables anymore. Okay, what is going on? Why is everything I try to say turning to gibberish as soon as I- wait, am I speaking Enochian?!  
  
“For something that claims to be a God, you're _awfully_ whiny.” Bayonetta comments, apparently understanding me regardless as she resumes her attack.  
  
I glare down at her and coil my ribbons in on themselves to defend their vulnerable “faces”, even as several more energy blades appear and swing at them in rapid succession. Thankfully, the attacks seem much less effective against the outside of my ribbons — in fact, I can barely even feel them impact, the cuts sliding off my pseudo-limbs' feathered exteriors like rain off a roof.

** 𝕴 𝕯𝕺𝕹'𝕿 𝖂𝕬𝕹𝕿 𝕿𝕺 𝕱𝕴𝕲𝕳𝕿 𝖄𝕺𝖀 **  
** (I don't want to fight you!) **

To my annoyance, this time Bayonetta just flat out ignores me. Hey, I was being sincere! I don't want to fight you; hell, I don't even want to _be_ here!  
  
My lips curl into a frown. Maybe I shouldn't be so concerned about Bayonetta's efforts, what with my current status as a literal deity, but given how the game version of this fight ends with Jubileus getting punched into the goddamn _sun_ by Queen Sheba, I'm pretty sure Bayonetta could in fact still actually kill me if this continues. There has to be some way to get out of this situation, right?  
  
I glance around at the ethereal sphere encasing and shielding the two of us from the vacuum of space. Not that I expect it would matter much for _me_ if it wasn't present, given just who and what I currently seem to be — in fact, maybe I should just get rid of the thing, since that means Bayonetta won't have anything to stand on, thus forcing her to stop attacking me by default. Although, she'll then go plummeting back down to Earth, which I can actually see below and...  
  
...and uh... wow. That- that is the planet. This is actually a pretty awe-inspiring view, now that I look — and a similarly awe-inspiring prospective drop, which is kind of the problem, as I imagine a fall from the near-literal heavens might actually be enough to kill Bayonetta. Since she's kind of necessary to fulfill the various time travel loops that happen in the second game, and I don't know how this universe handles paradoxes like that, I'm not sure I want to risk that. Although, she does survive the same fall in the original game, and she can also just flat out fly by turning into a crow, so maybe that's not a problem? Or maybe this is a stupid reason for me to even be hesitating in the first place-  
  
“You know, I never imagined fighting a God could be quite so _boring_.” Bayonetta suddenly comments, ceasing her slashes. “If you're not going to cooperate, then you really give me no choice but to force the issue.”  
  
With that, she begins to perform a rapid series of dance-like motions, finishing with an echoing chant.

** 𝕾𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖚𝖘𝖙! **  
** (Sword of Dust!) **

Just as I realize that was _also_ Enochian — the words of which I somehow implicitly understood — Bayonetta strikes a pose, and about nine-tenths of her outfit suddenly flies off her body, becoming a whirling tornado of black that immediately tunnels into the nearby air. Wait, what?! She can't possibly have built up to a climax move yet, so how-?!  
  
Six circular portals abruptly appear to my right, from which countless black tendrils begin to sprout and rapidly coalesce into arms. As soon as they've fully formed, the bodiless limbs surge forward and grab hold of my own arm, squeezing it tightly and holding it in place. Despite being considerably smaller than my own limbs, I can't seem to manage to pull away or dislodge them, their strength seemingly neither limited nor determined by their size. Get off!  
  
“ _There_ we go.” Bayonetta says, smirking.  
  
The arms begin to drag me down towards her, even as I struggle to tear them off. With my free hand, I pry one of them loose and squeeze until it comes apart, and the edge of an unconsciously lashing ribbon swipes another one in two — but another pair of hands just forms to replace the destroyed ones a moment later, which grab hold of me again and continue to pull. Damn it-!  
  
Below me, Bayonetta leans forward, Shuraba glowing brightly as it gathers power. My eyes widen behind my mask.  
  
No- no, this needs to stop! I don't want to be here, I can't be here, I NEED TO NOT BE HERE-

** *!-!-OOOOOOOM-!-!* **

-and then the light of my halo engulfs me, and suddenly, I'm not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn't already clear from the tags, this fic is entirely based off an inside joke that does actually not exist on AO3. But, I figured it was worth putting up here anyways, if just because it's kind of the direct result of one or two of my other SIs. In any event, I still plan on writing and plotting this semi-ridiculous premise the same way that I would any of my other fics, so feel free to decide yourself how much of this to take seriously. ;)


	2. Chesed (or, Merciful Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The "regular" Enochian text in this chapter has been made black for the sake of readability. To read this chapter as it was originally, visit the Spacebattles mirror.)

As the light dies away, I slowly reopen my eyes, and find my surroundings significantly changed. I'm still floating, but I'm no longer in space — instead, I'm hovering over a sea of cream-colored clouds, dispersed throughout a shining gold sky. Soft white feathers and glimmers of light are gently drifting down from somewhere above, barely visible as more than tiny specks from my current perspective.  
  
Feeling rather confused, I quickly look from side to side, only to be greeted by more of the same. This is... Paradiso, isn't it? Given how everything looks, I imagine it kind of has to be, but that would mean I'm back on Earth, right? Or at least somewhere over its surface...  
  
Did I just _teleport_?  
  
I glance over my shoulder at my halo, which has already returned to a more “normal” level of radiance. Huh. Well, that was some excellent timing. Crisis averted, at least for the moment... I guess Bayonetta will have to get down from that space orb on her own now. She should be fine, right? I don't imagine she'll enjoy the fall back to the planet proper, but she'll live... probably...  
  
I shake my head, hair-ribbons rippling out in tandem with the motion. Regardless, Bayonetta really cannot be my primary concern right now. She's more than capable of taking care of herself, and I've got bigger issues to deal with, both figuratively and literally. But first...  
  
I look down.  
  
I'd... _really_ like to find something solid to stand on. I don't really know how it is I'm floating right now — I'm guessing that it's just my new natural state, since it seems to take no real effort or thought for me to sustain — but in the event that it suddenly cuts out for whatever reason, I'd much prefer to fall from, say, ten feet up, rather than ten thousand.  
  
Trying not to picture the likely result of such a scenario, I slowly begin floating down through the clouds. Thankfully, I don't have to go very far to find land — as soon as I break through the bottom of the cloud cover, causing a large vertical ray of light to briefly shine down on me from above, I'm greeted by the sight of a beautiful vista of floating islands scattered throughout the nearby sky. Ornate buildings and alien structures sit side by side with lush flora and glimmering waterfalls, the sight of it all innately pleasing in some strange way.  
  
Well, at least the scenery here is nice.  
  
Continuing my descent, I begin steering myself towards one of the islands, eventually coming to rest in a stationary hover over a small lake at its very center. I stare down at the water's surface, so perfectly pure and clear that it almost looks like glass, and my reflection stares back up at me, allowing me to finally take in my new appearance in its full, absurdly-detailed glory.  
  
Okay... so. I'm Jubileus. God. This is, uh- certainly a dilemma, and one I'm honestly not sure how to even _begin_ approaching. I did manage to escape from what might have otherwise been my imminent demise however, and it's not like much else is likely to even be capable of threatening me like this, so if I can just get a minute or two to gather my bearings-  
  
Before I can even finish the thought, countless golden portals suddenly begin to appear from all around me, the light created by so many of them in concert near-blinding in its intensity. I frantically swivel around as countless angels of all shapes and sizes begin to pour forth from the gateways, thousands upon thousands of them simultaneously surging forth to the point that they almost appear a solid mass. Within seconds, they've completely filled the surrounding skies.  
  
And all of them are chanting the exact same words.

** 𝕳𝕬𝕴𝕷 𝕵𝖀𝕭𝕴𝕷𝕰𝖀𝕾, 𝕿𝕳𝕰 𝕮𝕽𝕰𝕬𝕿𝕺𝕽 **  
** (Hail Jubileus, the Creator!) **

...oh dear.  
  
My gaze roves around the crowd of still-amassing angels, trying desperately to take everything in.  
  
Affinitys and Accolades in unfathomable numbers.  
  
Dears and Cachets intermingling with Harmonies.  
  
Enchants and Irenics wheeling through the skies.  
  
Inspireds and Glamors circling a fleet of Kinships, themselves carrying numerous Beloveds and Braves.  
  
Gracious, Glorious, and several Joys standing atop Resplendence itself.  
  
My ribbons unconsciously curl in on themselves. If you were to tell me that this was literally every angel currently in existence, I might just believe it. But somehow, I get the feeling that this is little more than the tip of the iceberg.  
  
The chanting begins to die down as a portion of the sea of angels abruptly parts, and through the newly-made gap fly two of Paradiso's most recognizable members. I watch on as the massive forms of Fortitudo and Temperantia, currently reduced to their lesser aspects of Courage and Temperance, move to the forefront of the crowd and position themselves in front of- wait, what was-?  
  
𝔒𝔥 𝔪𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔶 𝔍𝔲𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔲𝔰, ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔚𝔞𝔰, Fortitudo suddenly speaks, his rumbling, deep-as-stone voice somehow managing to sound reverent all the same, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔧𝔬𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤-𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥.  
  
𝔒𝔥 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔍𝔲𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔲𝔰, ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔅𝔢, Temperantia follows up in an equally worshipful tone, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔣𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔫 𝔳𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔴𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫.  
  
A fresh wave of chanting sweeps through the gathered angels, though it settles down more quickly this time.  
  
ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔡𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢. Fortitudo continues once relative silence returns. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔯.  
  
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔷𝔢𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔩𝔦𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢. Temperantia agrees. 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔲𝔢.  
  
𝕬𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍, 𝖜𝖊 𝖍𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖞 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖊𝖝𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖊. the two of them finish in unison. 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖘𝖒𝖔𝖘!  
  
Throughout all of this, I remain utterly silent, my masked face schooled into a secondary mask of indifference as I panic internally.  
  
What do I do?! What do I say?! If I don't pretend to be Jubileus here, my so-called “servants” may just slaughter me on the spot, but I have no idea how she's supposed to act! The only thing Jubileus even gets to do in the game is fight Bayonetta; she never actually _talks_ beyond screaming in anger or pain, so I have no idea how she might respond to this! Hell, I don't know if she even has a defined _personality_ beyond being-!  
  
A memory suddenly sparks at the back of my mind; a tiny bit of random trivia that I only vaguely remember. Wait... I could be wrong about this, but didn't the game's director at one point state that Jubileus's personality is basically just that of a typical, self-absorbed sixteen-year-old girl? I don't know if that necessarily holds true here, or if that was even meant to be canon, but if so...  
  
I can work with that.

** 𝖂𝕳𝖄 **  
** (Why?) **

A portion of the surrounding crowd recoils from the sheer volume of my rebuttal, even the two ~~Auditio~~ Sequi rearing back slightly. Er, I meant that to be loud, but perhaps not that loud. I really need to lower my voice a little.  
  
𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔲𝔰, 𝔬𝔥 ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔴𝔢 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡. Fortitudo replies after a moment, a tinge of confusion coloring his words.  
  
𝖂𝖍𝖞 𝖊𝖝𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙? I clarify in a slightly quieter tone, staring down at him and Temperantia imperiously.  
  
A long silence ensues. I might as well have asked them why the sky is blue — or gold, here, I guess.  
  
𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔰, 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔬 𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣- Temperantia starts.  
  
𝕴 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖘𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓, I interrupt, internally praying that really is the case, since I don't actually know for certain, 𝖓𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖒 𝕴 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖞 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖚𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖗 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖉𝖔. 𝕾𝖔 𝕴 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖙, 𝖜𝖍𝖞 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊?  
  
Honestly, I do kind of care about the demon issue, since they really could be a genuine problem if they manage to get loose of Inferno, as Bayonetta 2 pretty clearly showed. Reminding humanity of its “proper place” however is both a pointless and horrifying concept, especially since the only sort of “respect” from humans that I expect these angels would acknowledge as such is complete and utter zealotry. Much like the type they seem to be aiming at me right now, frankly.  
  
ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔲𝔯𝔢. Fortitudo tries again, evidently not grasping my point. 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩, 𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔯, 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔶𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢, 𝔟𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩-  
  
𝕰𝖝𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 _𝖎𝖘𝖓'𝖙_ 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑. I say icily, crossing my arms under my chest. 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊. 𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 _𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖓_ 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖎𝖙?  
  
Were it possible for giant, semi-monstrous incarnations of the cardinal virtues to uneasily shift in place, I am absolutely certain that both Fortitudo and Temperantia would be doing so right now.  
  
𝔚𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡. Fortitudo speaks after a short pause, seeming as though he's come to some sort of realization.  
  
𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖓𝖔𝖜? I ask, highly doubting that.  
  
Fortitudo's two draconic heads nod in tandem. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔩𝔢𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔶𝔢𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶.  
  
...meaning no, you don't. As I figured.  
  
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔢𝔣𝔱 𝔈𝔶𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢𝔰 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫. Temperantia says with an undercurrent an anger unbefitting of his name. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔘𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔫 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔲𝔟𝔪𝔦𝔱-

** 𝕯𝕺 𝕹𝕺𝕿**  
** (Do not!)**

Only after having already spoken that pronouncement do I stop to think that perhaps that sort of flat denial may be a tad too suspect, and add ...𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖜. 𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖏𝖚𝖉𝖌𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖘𝖔 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊, _𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗_ 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉. 𝖀𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝕰𝖞𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖆𝖓𝖙.  
  
Though their marble faces lack proper expressions to go off of, I still get the sense that the pair are on the verge of protesting, only their sheer reverence for their God holding them back from doing so. Not wanting to give them the chance to potentially get over that, I decide to try and end this here.  
  
𝕹𝖔𝖜 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊. 𝕬𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚. I order, sweeping my gaze over the gathered crowd. 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗.  
  
Before I've even finished speaking, the surrounding throng nigh-immediately begins to thin, the portals from before reappearing en masse as every angel present practically races to be the first to follow my command. It's all I can do not to flinch back in uneasy surprise — honestly, the idea of being discovered as a “false” God almost seems _less_ scary in comparison to the idea of having this kind of unquestioned power and sway at my fingertips.  
  
Fortitudo and Temperantia are slower than the rest, still seeming relatively bewildered, but eventually incline themselves in my direction as if to bow.  
  
𝕭𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑, 𝖔𝖍 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗. they echo each other, before turning and disappearing through portals of their own.  
  
Within less than twenty seconds, the skies that had been all but blotted out are clear and visible once more. As soon as the final angel has vanished from sight, an enormous wave of relief washes over me, to the point that were I actually standing on anything right now, I expect I might have collapsed to my knees.  
  
Thank God (...er, me?) that worked. I honestly have no idea how I got through that conversation, but somehow I managed it. Not sure I quite nailed the “obstinate teenager” persona I was going for, but it seems to have worked out, at least for the time being.  
  
I glance down at my own reflection again, no different than before. Back to my other major, slightly more personal issues then. I still don't really have any sort of plan to deal with... _this_ yet, but I do believe I at least know what the first step will be, regardless of how I end up approaching things afterwards.  
  
I straighten up to my full, skyscraper-sized height, my halo spreading out behind me like the wings it resembles.  
  
Time to figure out how to use these so-called “Godly” powers...


	3. Omniscience (or, The Some-Knowing Eye)

With another flare of my halo — intentional, this time — I once again find myself floating in the skies. These ones lack the distinct heavenly glow of my previous location, and are instead the soft, gradually lightening blue of the oncoming dawn, signaling to all below that morning is on the rise.

I smile, proud of myself for managing to replicate my earlier teleportation feat. I wasn't entirely certain I could, seeing as how the first time I did it was entirely unconscious. Not to mention, this time I had an actual location in mind, which I wasn't entirely sure how to “specify” other than just intensely concentrating on it. Happily, that seems to have worked anyways — here in Purgatorio, the “limbo” of the Bayonetta universe, there shouldn't be anyone around to see me, and I should be invisible to anyone outside of it, making it the perfect place to work out exactly what I'm now capable of. Not really sure why I'm this high up again, but that's not a terribly big deal.

Allowing myself to slowly start “falling” in the same manner I did earlier, I turn my gaze to the land below. Sloping green hills and flower-filled fields sprawl out beneath me, together forming a picturesque vista so perfect it belongs on a postcard. A winding dirt road cuts through the center of the fields in question, leading up to what looks like a small rural town.

...er, come to think of it, I sure _hope_ this is Purgatorio, and not the human world proper. If I messed up and this is actually the latter, then I'm probably being seen by a looooot of people right now, all of whom are doubtless freaking out about the giant golden woman descending from the sky. That would be... awkward, to say the least.

Thankfully, when I touch down near the outskirts of the township — well, “touch down” in that I stop about 50 feet overhead — I find that only a few people are already up and about, and those that are look like little more than semi-translucent shades of themselves; more like tricks of the early-morning light than anything else. Taken alongside the fact that none of them have yet looked up at me and started screaming, I'm fairly certain that I am indeed in Purgatorio right now, which is a-

I frown. There it is again. I've _really_ got to figure out what's causing that... but, later. For now, since actions taken in Purgatorio can still affect the human world, even if humans can't see the cause, I should probably find somewhere slightly less inhabited to practice being God.

This in mind, I turn away from the town and take off over the nearby hills. Before long, I've left all signs of civilization behind, nothing but wilderness stretching out in front of me as I head even further afield.

I wonder, where exactly on the planet _am_ I right now anyways? When I teleported out of Paradiso, I only really cared about ending up in Purgatorio, not where _in_ Purgatorio I'd land. This certainly isn't Vigrid... I almost want to say it looks vaguely like the Netherlands?

I mentally shrug. I guess it doesn't really matter, but I should probably try and specify an actual country or city next time I teleport, rather than just leaving it up to fate. Maybe even pick a specific spot — wouldn't want to end up accidentally telefragging myself because I mistakenly zapped myself into the ground or something. Side note, _wow_ is that a weird thing to potentially have to be concerned about now...

Bizarre personal problems aside, I soon find myself floating over an empty valley, surrounded by several large hills tall enough to verge on being small mountains. Just as I arrive, the sun begins to crest over the horizon, peeking over the tip of one of the aforementioned hills and bathing the valley in the first proper rays of daylight. It's a beautiful sight, and I take a moment to simply admire it, even as I mentally appraise the area for my purposes. Wide, empty, relatively private... yeah, this'll probably do.

Might as well get started then.

Drifting down and settling a couple dozen feet over the valley's floor, I idly run my fingers over the fabric of the huge red ribbon hanging from my arms as I consider exactly how to go about this. Let's see now... I suppose it would make the most sense to start with things that I already know Jubileus should theoretically be capable of. In which case, what kind of abilities did she use during her boss fight?

Hmm... I remember that she did a lot of _punching_ , but... well, pretty sure I already know how to do that. She also made heavy use of various elemental powers to alter the terrain, which seems considerably more useful, and I think she could fire missiles or something from her hair-ribbons? Then there was that attack where she punched a black hole into existence on the exterior of the space orb, and those miniature galaxy projectiles she threw that reverted Bayonetta to a child if they hit her...

In retrospect, this universe is pretty weird.

Regardless, I'm not going to try that black hole ability — it seems too potentially dangerous, and that might have just been Jubileus smashing a hole in the side of the orb and letting Bayonetta get sucked out into space anyways. The rest seem potentially doable though, assuming I can figure out the right mental “muscles” to flex. I guess I'll try the elemental stuff first, and see where it goes from there?

Deciding that sounds like a decent enough plan, I raise my right arm and hold it out in front of me, imagining a lit flame dancing on the surface of my palm-

Before I've even finished visualizing it, a white-hot inferno flares up from my hand like I just doused it in gasoline, rising high enough to nearly lick at my face in all of half a second. Startled, I reflexively imagine the flames vanishing, and they just as instantly snuff themselves back out. Drawing my hand back to myself, I find that it thankfully bears no trace of the blaze's brief presence, not a scorch mark or burn to be seen.

...well, **that** was a bit of a surprise. I honestly didn't expect it to be that simple. Can I summon that anywhere other than my palms?

As it turns out, the answer is a very definitive “yes” — with a thought, more fire springs into existence, manifesting literally anywhere I so desire it to and continuing to burn utterly free of fuel without any apparent issue. Another minute of testing proves wind, earth, and water to all be equally effortless to control, the elements all but leaping to my command at even the slightest mental instruction. They bend to my will so freely and readily that it almost feels like they're literally a part of me, barely any different from an arm or leg.

This is so... _easy_...

I conjure up a floating sphere of swirling blue and orange flame, its surface roiling like a miniature sun as the heat pouring off of it blackens the grass below. A localized tornado descends upon it and blows it into nothingness, only to then itself be dispersed by the ground, which rises up beneath it like a cavernous mouth and swallows the cyclone whole. The just-raised monolith doesn't last long though, as a massive wave appears from nowhere and collapses on top of it like a tiny tsunami, cracking the rock in half... then I flex my will again, and the small lake's worth of water instantly evaporates. The wind stills and the ground churns, smoothing itself back into its previous shape as greenery rapidly re-sprouts from its surface, and a few seconds later, not a single trace of the various unnatural disasters I just summoned remains.

...think I'm starting to see why superiority complexes are so very common in fictitious “gods”.

Unwilling to stop just yet, I push further, continuing to experiment. Even the base properties of each element prove a trifle for me to manipulate, seemingly every aspect of their existence utterly free for me to change and alter as I wish. I can “freeze” fire and have it continue on as a flame that now burns cold, spreading ice over all it touches. I can change the softest gust of wind to be as sharp as glass, its invisible edges an omnidirectional threat. I can transmute dirt to gold and back, make earth as intangible as shadow, force water to exist in an unstable state where it freezes and sublimates and condenses all at once...

On a whim, I trace a small circle in the air in front of me, and a brilliant gold portal forms in its wake. I then snap my fingers, and countless pillars of light burst forth from the opening, slamming into the side of a nearby hill and nearly blasting it in half. I fix that with a thought, the equally countless pieces of flying debris reversing course and re-merging with the hillside, and come to an abrupt conclusion:

The original Jubileus really had NO idea what she was doing during her fight with Bayonetta, did she?

I smile briefly, then let it drop for fear of karma coming back to bite me. Just because I can apparently do all this doesn't necessarily mean I'd be any more effective against Bayonetta in a fight than the real Jubileus was. I should probably stop messing around now anyways — while bending the elements to my will is proving to be almost addictively fun, it ultimately isn't all that helpful for my current purposes, ie. trying to figure out a way to fix this mess. So, what else do I have to work with...?

I raise my right hand to my face, tracing a finger along the surprisingly delicate filigree covering the exterior of my mask.

Well, there is this whole “Right Eye of Light” thing that I now technically possess, at least in as much as Balder possesses it since he used himself as a catalyst to revive me. It and the accompanying Left Eye of Darkness were treated as a huge deal in both games, basically being ethereal, ultra-powerful forces passed down through the Umbra Witch and Lumen Sage clans until they ended up with Bayonetta and Balder respectively, but to be perfectly honest? Outside of the context of reviving Jubileus and being used by Aesir to “see through reality”, I'm not sure I know what either of the eyes is actually supposed to _do_ , other than grant limited omniscience, bestow the power of creation, and allow one to manipulate existence itself-

I pause.

So, _that's_ what those odd thoughts were earlier. The Right Eye was... correcting me? Answering me? Either way, this is certainly convenient...

I conduct a few tests, and rapidly come to a few basic conclusions — so far as I can tell, the Right Eye only seems to activate on its own occasionally, randomly chiming in at times to fill in certain gaps in my knowledge. To make use of it more directly however, all I have to do is ask it a question, and it provides an answer. It's like I've got internal access to the world's fastest and best curated search engine, right there in my... er, face.

I take a moment to look off into the distance and glare at nothing in particular. Sure would have been nice to know about this slightly earlier, _before_ I had to ad-lib my way out of getting mobbed by the forces of Paradiso, but at least I know now, I guess.

Unfortunately, limited omniscience turns out to be considerably more “limited” than I'd really like. While every normal question I ask the Right Eye is answered in an instant — apparently I'm currently in Switzerland, not the Netherlands, there are no other sapient beings presently watching me, and Jubileus has been sealed away for just under 10000 years — when I ask it how exactly I ended up in this situation to begin with, it completely fails to respond. Nor does it tell me anything when I ask how to get the angels to stop being militant fanatics bent on controlling every realm, though perhaps that one is my fault for asking slightly too broad a question.

The Right Eye _does_ tell me that I could potentially return to my own body and universe if I so wish, confirming in the process that they do in fact exist, and that I-as-Jubileus didn't just dream up my former existence in my sleep or something. However, it seems I lack the power do so at present, and since I doubt that Bayonetta is going to willingly let me subsume her to attain the power of the Left Eye in addition to the right one, I suppose that's out for the moment as well.

I frown again, my ribbons idly lashing about behind me in annoyance. How frustrating... though I have to admit, I'd be kind of reluctant to return to being “myself” just yet anyways. I mean, it's not like I expected to ever be thrust into this sort of position, but after suddenly being handed the ability to do pretty much anything, even if only to a point, it's difficult to think of willingly giving that up to go back to being... well, me.

That being said, it's still a definite trade off. After all, if I choose to remain here and continue on as God, then that leaves me with all of God's _problems_ as well, and this universe certainly has a lot of them. There's the ongoing war between Paradiso and Inferno, multiple self-fulfilling time loops that I may have forced into paradox states simply by the act of being here, the evil half of the God of Chaos scheming to regain his full power-

My frown morphs into a grimace. Damn, I'd almost forgotten about that — what am I going to do about Balder and Loptr? I'd assume that I can't take the latter out of me without bringing the former along with him, and since the Right Eye of Light is essentially serving as my primary power source right now, I can't really risk doing that without sending myself back into neverending sleep. At the same time however, Loptr was basically described as evil incarnate, and in being sealed inside of Balder, his soul ended up utterly corrupting the sage's mind and actions — something that might end up affecting _me_ by extension if I don't do something about him soon, so neither can I simply leave this be.

My brow slants downward as I consider the apparent catch-22. If I can't act, but also can't _not_ act, then how exactly am I supposed to resolve this-

I have a sudden urge to smack myself in the forehead. “How”? What do I mean “how”? I literally just learned that all I have to do to figure that out is ask “How can I get Loptr and Balder out of me without also removing the Right Eye of Light?”

…

Uh, okay, maybe not actually. How about “How can I make sure that Loptr's essence will not end up corrupting me from the inside?”

…

...hmm. This may be a problem.

I ask a few more questions in the same vein, but the result remains the same each time: if the query involves Loptr in any fashion, then the Right Eye remains utterly silent. It's not even just questions about removing his spirit/soul/essence/what-have-you from myself; I can't seem to get _anything_ on him at all. For that matter, any questions about Loki get an identical result, the god's better half apparently just as hidden from the Right Eye's purview as his worse one.

I don't get it. Is it because Loptr and Loki are part of Aesir? Maybe the Right Eye can't/won't tell me anything about him or his respective “pieces” because he's technically its original owner, and therefore excluded from its scope of observation. Or...

I freeze.

Or maybe it's because, being inside of Balder, Loptr currently has direct access to the Right Eye itself, and is actively preventing it from giving me any information that could help me move against him. In fact, it's possible that he's even controlling _everything_ it gives me, using its answers as a way to indirectly influence my actions. Granted, I'm not sure exactly what degree of awareness he retained after being sealed away, but his spirit was at least conscious enough to try to escape while Balder was dying at the start of the second game, and considering how in keeping with his manipulative nature and motives it would be to do something like this...

I swear internally. Damn it, I really can't put this off then. If I can't return to my own universe for the moment, assuming I'd even want to, getting Loptr out of me _needs_ to be my top priority.

Unfortunately, if the Right Eye won't give me any information on how to extract or destroy Loptr — and I suppose I couldn't necessarily trust it even if it did — then I'm right back where I was before, without any actual idea of how to go about doing either of those things. Which leaves me in a rather tight spot, as my preexisting knowledge isn't helpful here, and it's not like there's anyone I can exactly _ask_ about something like this-

...actually, scratch that. There is _one_ being I know of that I might be able to ask about this, and who may be able to offer me actual advice on the subject in turn. But even the mere prospect of approaching them, regardless of the reason, considering just who and what I am now...

Well. This should be interesting.


	4. Theophany (or, A God Walks Into a Bar)

_~Several hours later~_

I am currently standing in what may be the rattiest, most obviously criminal area of New York City that there has ever been in the history of any universe I know of, fictitious or otherwise. The streets are filthy, the buildings are seedy, and the few people out and about right now look shifty as all hell. If I wasn't currently in possession of literal deific powers beyond mortal ken, I'd be highly worried about the all-too-likely possibility of getting grabbed off the sidewalk and shanked in a nearby alleyway.

Or, perhaps more likely, offered up as some sort of blood sacrifice in an attempt to summon one of the denizens of Inferno to this plane.

I grimace. I wish I was kidding about that, but no, that's apparently considered a serious risk around here. I believe it too — even if I hadn't gotten that information straight from the Right Eye, one of the things I figured out before arriving here is how to sense and detect demonic energy, and this neighborhood practically _reeks_ of it. Taken alongside the fact that "Devil Hunter" is apparently considered a legitimate occupation in these parts, I'm willing to bet that such demonic summoning efforts are not only relatively commonplace, but succeed at least often enough to be a consistent problem for the local populace.

Hardly any wonder this place got nicknamed "The Dump".

I shake my head in distaste, my hair shifting around behind me as I do — yes, hair, not hair-ribbons. As soon as I decided to take this little field trip, finding a way to become, or at least make myself _look_ human again immediately became priority number one. Not that it was ultimately any more difficult than everything else I've tried so far. A thought, a question, and the barest touch of will, and I immediately found myself restored to humanity...

My glasses — which I've never actually needed before, and technically still don't — slip down my nose slightly, prompting me to push them back into place.

...albeit with a few key differences from my former appearance. Still, I'm fine with that. For my current purposes, looking like this might actually work to my advantage, and I hardly want to be walking around as "myself" in this universe anyways. Conveniently, taking human form also seems to stop the auto-translation of my words into Enochian, meaning that I can now speak normally again.

Though, I imagine the person I'm here to speak with would have little trouble understanding me regardless.

I turn once more to stare up at the sign hanging over the entrance to the bar I've been loitering in front of for the past several minutes, slanted words reading "The Gates of Hell" lit up in neon purple beneath the image of a cartoonish, pistol-wielding demon.

You'd think that with power like the kind I now possess on my side, I wouldn't be so nervous about the prospect of simply strolling inside and having a quick chat with this place's proprieter. Yet I am, and rightfully so I think — Rodin is not someone to take lightly, no matter who you are. In fact, as things currently stand he's nearly my equal in power, despite most of his former might being sealed at the moment. He's also got a hell of a lot more experience to back that power up with, being not only the notorious "Demonsmith" who goes out and personally takes on enormously powerful demons in order to forge their souls into Bayonetta's weapons, but also a former Deus-rank angel, whose level of divinity at one time very nearly rivaled _mine_.

I shudder. If I go about this the wrong way, I imagine I could easily end up getting "forged" myself — I bet someone would pay top dollar for a weapon containing the literal soul of God.

Seeing as how I'd very much prefer _not_ to end up getting shoved inside a pair of nunchucks or the like, I prepped rather extensively for this visit. Not only did I take the time to figure out even more of what I'm currently capable of, I made sure to check and double check with the Right Eye that I would make it out of this alive, asking dozens of variations on the same basic question in an attempt to cover all my bases. While I couldn't outright predict how a theoretical conversation with Rodin would go, presumably due to its intended subject matter, I still managed to come up with some strategies that I think should keep me safe...

I purse my lips. Though, without being certain of Loptr's current status, I'm admittedly not sure how "trustworthy" any of those strategies are. If his spirit is conscious right now, despite technically being sealed away twice over, then he presumably wants me either corrupted, incapacitated, or just plain dead... and if he's capable of influencing the Right Eye to even a small degree, this seems like it would be a pretty perfect opportunity for him to feed me false information through it and prompt one of the latter scenarios, no further manipulation necessary.

That said, I can't just discount everything the Right Eye has to offer me either. There's a decent chance that Loptr is neither awake nor aware enough at the moment to do anything at all, and the information the Right Eye is capable of granting me is simply too valuable a resource _not_ to use in the event that it isn't compromised. Since I can't know for certain whether it is or not, this is going to be a major risk... but it's one I'm just going to have to take.

My expression firms.

Let's do this.

Drawing in a breath — which honestly feels rather weird after having _not_ been breathing for the past several hours, something I hadn't actually noticed until I took human form again — I grab the handle of the door in front of me, pull it open, and walk inside with all the fake confidence I can muster.

The interior of the building looks pretty much exactly as I expected it to — namely, virtually nothing like a normal bar. Sure, it's about as dimly lit as one, and there's a couple of currently empty tables at the front of the room that are obviously meant to used by patrons, but so far as I'm aware, most bars don't have solid stone walls sculpted into intricate gothic archways that encircle the entirety of the room. They also don't generally have giant winged faces carved into the ceiling, leering down at the room's occupants from on high, nor an extensive number of vivid red curtains, hanging down from the aforementioned archways like miniature waterfalls of blood, _nor_ a rather large antique gramophone, itself watched over by an even larger gargoyle.

I crinkle my nose. I'll give the place this though — it's certainly got the cloying tobacco smoke smell down pat.

Doing my best to ignore the scent, I focus in on the back of the room, where the bar itself stands within a small, nicely-carpeted pit. Standing behind the half-circle countertop is the obvious source of the pervasive odor: a tall, heavily-muscled black man with a shaved head, numerous dark facial tattoos, and a lit cigar perched between his lips.

As I watch, he sets a record on the gramophone to his right, whereupon it begins playing a slow, subtle jazz piece that I don't recognize in the slightest. I can't help but think it's a rather odd bit of ambiance to have present for the conversation I expect to have shortly, but perhaps the music will help keep things calm?

Mentally bracing myself, I walk forward towards the counter, stepping down off the wooden bar floor and onto the carpet below. There aren't any stools to sit on there for some reason, so instead I simply lean forward on the bar itself, doing my best to smile as Rodin turns towards me.

"So!" I say cheerily. "If _you_ were a celestial deity recently resurrected from a multi-millennia long slumber and had the evil half of the God of Chaos stuck inside your eye, which you couldn't get out without potentially sending yourself back into an eternal coma, what would _you_ do?"

Rodin shows no initial reaction to my opening statement, merely staring me from across the bar for a long, silent moment.

"Not a rhetorical question, just by the by." I add. "Genuinely looking for advice right now."

"Of all the people to come knockin' at my door..." Rodin finally says, slowly removing the cigar from his mouth. "The hell are you doin' here?"

"Asking for advice." I reply. "Thought I made that pretty clear, honestly."

I'm playing with fire, acting so casually about this. My intent in doing so is to be as deliberately disarming as possible, thus throwing off any potential "reflex" responses Rodin might have, such as pulling out the infernal shotgun he has stored under the counter. Even if the Right Eye can tell me what might work to get me through this however, it doesn't necessarily mean I'm pulling it off properly — that part is entirely up to me, and my not-necessarily-believable acting.

I try not to wince at the thought.

Still, so long as I don't attack first, Rodin won't attack either, or at least so my Eye of Questionable Trustworthiness assures me. As such, hopefully I won't have to worry about that one way or other... hopefully.

"Really now?" Rodin replies in kind. "And why come to me for that? I ain't exactly too fond of you, as you well know."

He tilts his ever-present shades down slightly, revealing burning red eyes glaring at me over the lenses.

"Wouldn't _be_ down here if not for you, after all."

The sudden accusation catches me off guard, but I do my best to roll with it and recover.

"Er... sorry?" I say. "Don't actually remember that to be perfectly honest. Everything from before I took my absurdly long nap is kind of a blur."

Rodin's brow raises slightly, even as he pushes his sunglasses back into place.

"That so?"

"Yep." I say. "Honestly, ever since someone finally woke me up this morning, I've been pretty busy just trying to reacquaint myself with... everything."

That's essentially the truth, which is quite intentional. While I don't plan on telling Rodin about my "former self", I do intend to be as upfront with him as possible for just about everything else, as it will make him significantly less inclined to believe I have some sort of ulterior motive in coming here. That's also part of why I kept my new "default" human appearance instead of bothering to change it to something slightly less attention-grabbing — if I'm trying to be candid with Rodin, doing something that could be construed as attempting to hide my identity would only be counterproductive.

Not like he wouldn't have seen through it anyways, after all.

Rodin goes silent again for another long moment. Then he suddenly starts chuckling, his deep voice overpowering the nearby music and echoing unsettlingly throughout the otherwise empty room.

"Something... funny...?" I ask uneasily.

"Oh, nothin' much." Rodin replies with a lighthearted air. "Just thinking... if I took all the power you got stored up in that halo you're hidin' right now, I bet I'd be able to get back to my old self _real_ fast."

He grins. "Might even be able to hold onto it permanently."

My eyes go wide, and I quickly scramble back from the bar.

Shit, is he serious?! It's true that Rodin needs vast quantities of angelic power to regain his own angelic form, which is implied to be the entire point of his business with Bayonetta. As the owner of what is perhaps the highest concentration of angelic power currently in existence, I _did_ consider that something of the sort may occur to him — I just also assumed the previous assurance that Rodin wouldn't attack me without provocation would cover that. Would him stealing the entirety my power somehow not count as an attack?! If not, then what kind of planet-sized oversight did I just-

Rodin interrupts my internal panic by laughing again, harder this time.

"Then again," he drawls, "this ain't exactly what I was expectin' when I heard someone finally kicked your ass awake, and I gotta admit, you got me a little curious as to why. So no worries... why don't you step back on over here?"

I don't move. Was that a suggestion, or a demand?

I check, and find myself relieved — it really was just meant as a suggestion, and not even a threatening one, meaning that Rodin probably isn't actually about to try and shove his fist through my heart the moment I get close enough for him to do so. Thank goodness...

Wariness fading somewhat, I return to my previous position, trying not to pout. For all that I can claim to be at least semi-omniscient now, I'm quickly discovering that it only makes it all the more frustrating when I'm caught off guard by something, since it means that not knowing about it was probably my own fault for not thinking of it to begin with.

“You don't need to _intentionally_ scare me like that you know.” I say.

Seriously, this is stressful enough as is... though, it would probably be a lot less so if I wasn't stuck attending this conversation in person. One of my first thoughts on how to go about this was to simply make and send a false body in my place, controlling it from afar while my real self remained safe in Purgatorio, but apparently Rodin would have nigh-immediately noticed and destroyed it had I actually done so. Other, similar ideas ended up having almost the exact same failure point, so coming as myself ended up being my only real option — or maybe Loptr just wanted me to _think_ it was my only real option. But I can't worry about that right now.

Rodin scoffs. "Scared? This from the woman almost single-handedly responsible for the First Armageddon?"

I shrug. "Don't know anything about that. Like I said, having some memory issues... plus, I'm not exactly operating on a full tank at the moment. Which is part of the problem I came here to talk about, since I'm pretty sure that my current power source may have something of a terminal defect."

“Defect?” Rodin repeats, idly picking his cigar back up and rolling it between his fingers.

“That would be the aforementioned God of Chaos.” I elaborate. “See, the guy who woke me up was kind of possessed by the evil side of said god's soul, which is what spurred him on to try and unseal me in the first place. Not that I'm exactly complaining about that, but he also used himself as a catalyst for said unsealing, so now the guy is stuck inside _me_ , along with his own passenger by proxy. Which, since said passenger demonstrably had something of a serious corrupting effect on the last vessel his spirit was housed in, I'm naturally kinda worried about.”

I think about it for another second, before tacking on “Also, he's sort of the original owner of the thing that's powering me right now, and may or may not have some degree of control over it, and therefore over _me_. So... yeah, I want him out. Was kind of hoping you could help with that.”

Rodin takes all this in without comment, remaining remarkably stone-faced in the face of all that information, before finally replying about ten seconds later.

“I already got a pretty good guess in mind, but humor me. What exactly is this power source you're goin' on about?”

Unable to help myself, I flex my will, and my right eye briefly lights up with an entire spectrum of shining colors.

“The Right Eye of Light.”

Rodin stills for a brief moment, then laughs again, though this time it's little more than a low chuckle at the back of his throat.

“Hah... the more I hear outta you, the more you're startin' to remind me of someone else I know.” he says.

I blink, not entirely certain what to make of that comment.

“Really?” I ask. “Who's that?”

“Just a girl who stops by to shop from time to time.” Rodin remarks. “Might be my best customer, matter a' fact. Certainly the one who keeps the most halos on hand.”

Oh. Uh...

“But what am I sayin'?” Rodin continues. “You two have already met, ain't ya? After all, she was in here just a few hours ago...”

He smirks.

"Askin' about _you_."

Behind me, I hear the front entrance suddenly open, accompanied by a sudden surge of demonic energy.

"Speak of the devil..." Rodin says.

 _'...and she shall appear.'_ my mind automatically finishes.

Shit.


	5. Blaspheme (or, What's a God to a Witch?)

“Well, if it ain't my favorite gal.” Rodin calls over my shoulder. “Nice timing. Got a visitor here you might just be familiar with.”

I sigh, the words only confirming what I already knew.

Of _course_ I somehow chose the exact same time to visit as she did. I almost hope that Loptr really is actively trying to get me killed right now, because the alternative is that even with access to nigh-unlimited precognitive powers, I _still_ somehow managed to get blindsided by this.

I admit, I didn't explicitly check for the possibility of my conversation with Rodin getting interrupted this way. Given the sheer number of cautionary questions I asked the Right Eye beforehand however, surely _something_ would still have caused it to notify me that we'd be getting company...

Unless, perhaps, it couldn't?

I frown. Come to think of it, the Eyes of the World should be essentially equal to each other in power, which I'd assume would allow them to counter each other's abilities to some extent. In which case, is it possible that simply possessing one of the Eyes removes its owner from the scope of its counterpart's knowledge, rendering them a metaphorical “blind spot” similar to how I can't learn anything about Loptr or Loki?

I pose the question to the Right Eye, and receive no response from it whatsoever.

Going to take that as a “yes” then... well, actually that could still be Loptr's fault, but it's the same end result either way, so the difference is basically academic. At least that means it wasn't my fault for missing this then, even as it makes this already bad situation incalculably worse.

Should I just get out of here and come back some other time? That would almost certainly be the safest option, but I've barely even had a chance to talk to Rodin just yet, and I don't know if I can necessarily afford to put that off. Not to mention, this confrontation is likely inevitable in the long run anyways, and the longer that I avoid it, the more misunderstandings are liable to arise in the meantime...

Ugh, fine. I suppose I've still got my emergency exit plan if I really need it, so let's see how this goes.

Footsteps sound from behind me, the *click-clack* of metallic heels against the wooden bar floor echoing throughout the room. As I hear them step down and transition onto the carpet behind me, I sigh again, then slowly turn around to face my fate.

As expected, standing behind me is Bayonetta, perhaps the one person in the world that I didn't want to see there. Somewhat less expected however is the fact that she apparently brought company, because standing right behind _her_ is Jeanne, perhaps the only _other_ person in the world that I didn't want to see there.

Well, this is just getting better and better.

Despite the witch directly in front of me likely being a bigger concern, I find my attention drifting towards Jeanne anyways, surprised by her presence for more than one reason. I mean, it hasn't even been a day since she was after Bayonetta's head, and already the two are back to being all chummy with each other? They certainly made up quickly...

Then again, perhaps that only makes sense. Jeanne was being brainwashed by Balder during all that after all, so once she broke free of it, her previous actions were undoubtedly a lot easier to forgive than they might have been otherwise. Probably also helps that if not for Jeanne's last-minute rescue, Balder's plan would have succeeded, and Bayonetta would currently be stuck inside my other eye.

Not quite sure how to feel about that, myself.

Tearing my gaze away from from the platinum blonde, I refocus on Bayonetta, and- _wow_ this woman is tall. Last time I saw her she was smaller than my pinky finger, but from _this_ perspective, she towers over me by more than a foot. She's still not quite as ludicrously proportioned as the games sort of implied, but she certainly doesn't need those heels... well, not for the extra inches at least, not that she really wears them for that anyways.

As I look Bayonetta up and down, I notice her doing much the same to me. Her eyes flicker first to my lengthy golden-blonde tresses, the silken strands cascading down my back in unnaturally perfect waves, followed by my myriad of ornate jewelry, which bedecks everything from my neck to my nails. Slowly, her gaze continues tracking over the rest of my outfit, until her purple-and-black glasses finally rise to meet my own red-and-gold ones, their curving, wing-like frames contrasting with her own more butterfly-inspired pair.

I wonder if she's thinking I intentionally stole the look? I didn't, but I'd certainly understand the sentiment if I was accused of such.

“Hmm...” Bayonetta hums, finally addressing me, “don't you look a little _young_ to be visiting a place like this?”

Her tone is surprisingly teasing, given that I'll bet my divinity my “disguise” doesn't fool her for a second. Again, it wasn't even meant to act as one — my current look practically _screams_ who I am to anyone in the know, from the curving crimson-and-gold lines running up my stark white jeans, to the shrunken red ribbon I'm presently using as a scarf, to the literal angel wing designs stitched into the sleeves of my perhaps overly fancy top. Due to the approach I chose to take with Rodin, I expected, even intended to be recognized as soon as I walked in, and thus made a conscious decision to leave my identity obvious at a glance.

Rather regretting that now.

“I'm older than I look.” I reply, trying to keep a neutral tone.

“Oh?” Bayonetta remarks. “And how old might that be?”

I tilt my head slightly, playing along. “That's an awfully rude thing to ask someone you just met, don't you think? Old enough.”

“Cereza,” Jeanne says in a half-warning, half-frantic manner, guns already in hand, “she's-!”

Bayonetta holds up a hand, forestalling Jeanne's protests.

“You know, it was _quite_ the task, getting down from that little bubble you left me in.” Bayonetta continues, no less conversationally. “Leaving me high and dry like that... why, I almost felt like I'd been stood up.”

Bubble...?

Oh.

“Yeaaaaah, sorry about that.” I apologize. “I actually was a little worried about how you'd handle reentry, truth be told. Figured you could handle yourself though, and obviously I was correct-”

I feel the barrel of the gun settle under my chin before I even notice she's moved, its partner already pressing into the back of my neck.

Witch time... right.

“Do drop the act already.” Bayonetta says, dropping her own act as her tone suddenly turns deadly serious. “Now then, oh _Creator,_ I take it you're here for me?”

Rather than respond, I decide to simply take a page out of the witch's own book — a moment's concentration, and everything around me seems to suddenly freeze, the world taking on a soft golden hue as time slows to a crawl.

Turnabout is fair play, no?

Pushing away Bayonetta's all-but-frozen form, I pluck the infernal pistols out of her and Jeanne's hands and walk away from the bar. Sitting down in a nearby chair, I place the quartet of guns at the center of the adjoining table, then take a moment to casually lean over on one of the seat's armrests before allowing time to resume its natural course.

“Actually, I'm here to try and find a way to evict the force of pure evil currently holed up in my right eye.” I say, enjoying the surprise in Bayonetta's expression as she and Jeanne whirl around as one towards my new position. “My quote-unquote 'omniscience' doesn't seem to have an answer for that, so I thought perhaps I'd shop around for ideas **.** ”

Boy, I sure am good at acting blithe around some of the only beings in all of existence that may actually have a decent shot at killing God. Maybe the sheer absurdity of this situation as a whole is starting to get to me.

“On that note,” I continue, gesturing to the confiscated guns at my side, “if we could perhaps keep our hands weapon-free for the moment, I'd very much appreciate-”

Jeanne and Bayonetta kick their right legs out at me in tandem, bullets immediately starting to fly from the secondary pistols attached to their heels. Thankfully I was prepared for that, and the shots slam into an invisible wall of ultra-dense air a few feet in front of me, sinking into it and losing all forward momentum before harmlessly dropping to the floor.

“Okay, could we PLEASE not do this?” I yell over the gunfire. “I am genuinely not interested in-”

Two dark portals appear in front of me before I can finish the sentence, from which a pair of enormous high-heeled feet come shooting out, the limbs of Madama Butterfly and Madama Styx breaking past my relatively weak shield like it's not even there.

Reacting mostly on instinct, I spring from my seat and slip between the stilettos, slapping them aside even as they rapidly begin to unravel on their own — but while I'm busy doing that, Bayonetta is already dropping through a portal in the floor, completely vanishing from view.

Remembering how this move works, I immediately form a swirling vortex of crackling violet energy over my head, expecting Bayonetta to come crashing down on it a moment later. That isn't what happens though, as her exit portal instead appears several yards away, and when she touches back down on the bar's floor, she's re-armed herself with the lengthy purple whip I know to be Kulshedra.

Caught off guard, I fail to react in time to prevent the snake-like weapon from lashing out and wrapping itself around me, binding my arms to my sides. It's reinforced by a near-identical pale green copy of itself a split second later, Vritra joining its cousin from the opposite end of the room and coiling around me so tightly that were I a normal human, my rib cage would likely have instantly crumpled inwards.

“I must say, after spending most of yesterday hearing over and over how you were going to _grace_ me, I was expecting a rather more impressive payoff.” Bayonetta quips.

My eyes narrow into a reproving glare.

“And I was expecting someone I might actually be able to reason with.”

The whips wrapped around me both abruptly recoil as my body shines with coruscant light, the heads of the serpentic weapons hissing and spitting as the scales that touched me begin flaking off and disintegrating into tiny glimmering particles.

“Sadly however, reality does not always line up with our expectations.” I finish, dusting myself off. “Now, could we please calm down and just _talk_ for a moment?”

Seriously, I'm doing alright at defending myself so far, but since I can't use the Right Eye to predict Bayonetta, and probably wouldn't be able to use it at combat-applicable speeds even if I could, this is actually incredibly nerve-wracking. She's not wholly unreasonable, I know she's not, so if I can just get through to her that I truly have no interest in shoving her back into my left eye socket-

Kulshedra vanishes from Bayonetta's hands, only for a _lightsaber_ to appear in its place, Pillow Talk humming loudly as energy pours off its glowing green blade.

“Oh, by all means, continue running your mouth.” Bayonetta says. “Just don't expect it to be a very long conversation.”

...alright, I tried. Time to get out of here before she and Jeanne start breaking out the grenade launchers.

I flex my will, reactivating God Time — but Bayonetta continues moving, apparently having activated Witch Time at nearly the exact same moment. Not having realized that was even possible, I scramble to improvise a last-second defense as Pillow Talk comes screaming down at my skull-

A tattooed hand suddenly blurs in and catches Bayonetta's arm in a crushing hold, its owner seemingly unaffected by either of the time-slowing magics currently in effect.

“You girls need to goddamn **chill**.”


	6. Revelation (or, O Fools, Learn Sense)

Rodin waves his free hand, and both God Time and Witch Time simultaneously collapse, the backlash of the splintering magic washing over me like a sudden slap to the face. I stumble back slightly, as do Bayonetta and Jeanne, the latter clearly still feeling the shock wave despite not having personally been a part of that exchange.

Didn't know Rodin could do that...

As soon as she regains her balance, Bayonetta frowns and yanks her arm out of the bartender's grip.

“Far be it from me to complain, but I can't help but feel this is rather backwards.” she notes. “It's obvious you didn't card her, but you do realize just who your latest patron happens to be, don't you?”

“No shit.” Rodin deadpans. “ _She_ ain't the one nearly bustin' up my bar though. You got a lotta credit with me Bayonetta, but it ain't _that_ high.”

He jerks his thumb in the direction of the entrance.

“If you fools are gonna keep tryin' to bust a cap in her ass, you can take yo' own asses outside.”

I exhale in relief.

“Thank you, Rodin. Nice to know that there's at least someone here who-”

“I ain't just talkin' to them.” Rodin interrupts as he turns towards me. “If they can't cool it, I'm tossin' _your_ ass out too. You ain't good for business.”

...never mind, I take it back.

“You would defend her, knowing what she is?” Jeanne speaks up, obviously less familiar with Rodin than her fellow witch. “Her very existence is a cataclysmic threat to the entire human world!”

“Particularly myself, which I'm rather more concerned about at the moment.” Bayonetta adds. “Though, saving the world in the process _would_ be a rather lovely bonus.”

“Except that the world doesn't actually _need_ saving, because I'm not planning on destroying it to begin with!” I exasperatedly cut in. “Seriously, if you two would just sit down and listen to me for like five minutes, I could easily clarify several things you seem to be highly confused about! Chiefly _me_!”

Neither the sentiment I'm expressing nor the rising indignance in my voice does much to bring the pair of witches pause — though, it does cause Bayonetta's lips to quirk upwards in apparent humor.

“My, I think you might just be the most talkative angel I've met to date.” she muses, dropping her free hand to her hip. “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Your kind _does_ seem awfully inclined to enjoy the sound of their own voices.”

She gives her weapon an idle twirl and smirks at me.

“Shame they're all such pompous prats that they're rarely worth listening to until they start screaming.”

That, to both her surprise as well as my own, actually wrests a small laugh from me. I realize that was probably meant to be a threat, but... well, I can't say I entirely disagree.

"Can't relate to the screaming part, but sadly, you're not wrong about Paradiso containing a great many overly-sanctimonious jerks." I reply after a moment. "I too would prefer if more of my subjects learned how to talk without sounding like they're quoting aloud from the Book of Genesis half the time, so I think we can agree on that much, at least."

Bayonetta blinks.

“Hmm...” she hums again, her expression suddenly gaining a touch of curiosity. “I have to admit, you seem strikingly less full of yourself than I'd expected. Certainly less so than those so-called Virtues.”

Jeanne looks over at Bayonetta with obvious shock.

“Cereza, no matter how she looks or what she says, this is still the woman who would remake the Trinity of Realities to Paradiso's own ends.” she protests. “You can't seriously be thinking of letting her speak?”

“'Woman' seems like something of an overstatement from where I'm standing.” Bayonetta replies, giving me another quick once over as she drags a finger across her jaw in thought. “And yes, I'm considering it.”

Having apparently stumbled my way into an actual chance to explain my position, I hurriedly clamp my mouth shut, not wanting to accidentally say something to cause Bayonetta to change her mind. At the same time, the witch in question turns back towards Rodin, who's by now moved back behind the bar proper.

“Care to share _your_ opinion on this?” she asks. “Shall we hear her out?”

Rodin shrugs.

“Ain't really up to me.” he replies, the cigar from earlier back between his fingers. “If it were though, yeah, I'd say give her a shot. In case you couldn't tell, she ain't exactly what Paradiso's been sellin' as of late.”

I don't know whether I should feel grateful or insulted to be described that way — though, I ultimately settle on the former as Bayonetta thinks it over for another brief moment, then shrugs herself.

“Alright.”

Pillow Talk disappears as Bayonetta strolls past me and seats herself in the very same chair I abandoned a minute ago, crossing one leg over the other in the showiest manner I've ever seen as she does so.

“We'll play nice for the moment.” she says. “Won't we Jeanne?”

Jeanne still looks less than convinced, but grudgingly follows Bayonetta's lead and stows Vritra away, though she declines to sit down as well. Meanwhile, Bayonetta retrieves the guns I snatched from the center of the table, reholstering Scarborough Fair while tossing the handheld half of All 4 One over her shoulder, which Jeanne effortlessly catches and holsters as well.

“Fine, go on then.” Jeanne urges, determinedly keeping her distance from me. “Say your piece, _Goddess_.”

She spits the word out like an insult, but I don't really care, as I'm just pleased that we finally seem to be getting somewhere. Doing my best to smile, I open my mouth-

“Do try to keep your hands to yourself though.” Bayonetta suddenly adds. “I've no doubt you'd still love to reclaim your other eye, but I'm just not the kind of woman to find that type of persistence attractive.”

My attempt at a smile fails as my expression reverts to a flat glare.

Intellectually, I realize that these two in fact have very legitimate reasons to neither like nor trust me. Emotionally however, this is really starting to get on my nerves.

“First of all, that's awfully presumptuous.” I say, crossing my arms under my chest. “Second, you really think this is all about _you_ , don't you?”

“I hardly see why I shouldn't, what with how those pesky angels of yours have been blathering on of late.” Bayonetta replies. “I swear, everywhere I went in Vigrid it was Left Eye this, Left Eye that... it's really quite aggravating when people only seem to want me for my body.”

Oh, like you don't egg them on every step of the way.

“Well believe it or not, Cereza, now that I'm awake I have better things to do than try and complete the set.” I somewhat petulantly retort. “Frankly, I'm having more than enough problems with the Eye I already have, which you'd _know_ if you made even a cursory attempt at listening to me earlier.”

I expected better of her. Though, I suppose Bayonetta always has been more of a “Shoot first, ask questions later, if ever” kind of person, so perhaps that was my own fault for thinking this would be any different.

“Also, just to reiterate, I have NO intention of destroying, remaking, or otherwise screwing around with the Trinity of Realities.” I state as emphatically as I can manage. “So you can go ahead and put that right out of mind.”

“Can we now?” Bayonetta questions. “Funny, because the Lumen Sage who revived you seemed awfully interested in that... as was every angel I cast into Inferno on the way to him, for that matter.”

I roll my eyes, pointedly ignoring her obvious attempt to get a rise out of me.

“Maybe it was in their interests, but it's certainly not in mine.”

Jeanne scoffs. “As if we could possibly believe that coming from the ruler of Paradiso. I have had an unwilling inside view of the intentions of the angels for countless years now, and reuniting the Trinity of Realities has _always_ been their plan. _Your_ plan.”

...excuse me?

“What do you mean _my_ plan?!” I snap, my hands planting themselves on my hips as I round on her.

My sudden vehemence brings Jeanne's pistols back to her hands in an instant, but before she can actually use them, ice suddenly sprouts from the inside of both gun barrels, rendering them at least temporarily unusable while chilling their metal enough to burn. Jeanne cries out in unexpected pain, dropping her weapons as quickly as if I'd set them on fire.

“ **Listen up**.” I order, my temper beginning to fray. “If you care to recall, I have been _asleep_ for the last several millennia. As such, NOTHING the angels have been doing during that time has been my idea. Hell, I already had to tell a bunch of them off for just _assuming_ I'd be on board with that very agenda!”

Jeanne says nothing, too busy gritting her teeth at me in anger, while Bayonetta merely raises an eyebrow in my direction.

“Really now?”

“Yes _really now_ , as in basically the very second I showed up!” I nearly shout, this close to literally stamping my foot. “Seriously, I pop into Paradiso after nearly getting my face punched in by _you_ , and I immediately have this entire angelic entourage whining at me to 'fix' reality so we can rule over everything 'as is right', and I'm just like-”

I throw my hands up.

“Why would we even WANT that?!”

Silence falls over the bar, even the record on Rodin's gramophone coming to an abrupt halt with what feels like absurdly perfect timing. From the way that everyone is suddenly staring at me, you'd think that I just announced my immediate intention to stroll down into the deepest part of Inferno and demand Queen Sheba's hand in marriage.

“...did I hear that correctly?” Jeanne finally asks, disbelief seeming to have momentarily overtaken her anger. “You're serious?”

“Of course I'm serious.” I grumble. “As if it's even remotely in my interest to take on _more_ responsibility than I already apparently have. Frankly, reality seems to have been doing just fine in my absence anyways, and I'm hardly inclined to step in where I'm clearly not wanted.”

Jeanne continues staring at me, looking as though she can scarcely comprehend what she's hearing. Behind her, Rodin chuckles.

“You really have changed, ain't ya?”

I shrug. “I don't know, have I?”

...I mean, obviously I have, but I can hardly make the comparison myself.

“Well, this is certainly a lovely little yarn you're spinning for us.” Bayonetta suddenly interrupts. “I must admit to a small concern, however.”

She leans forward slightly, glasses glinting dangerously in the low light. “Honesty may be a virtue, but you angels have never been the best at practicing what you preach, and I'm not particularly fond of being taken for rides I didn't charter. Exactly what proof do you have of anything you've claimed thus far?”

“How about the fact that we're having this conversation at all?” I flatly reply. “If I had any actual interest in re-merging the Trinity of Realities, don't you think I'd have already done it?”

Or at least wouldn't currently be sitting in this bar, trying to reason with the least likely pair of women on the planet to believe that I'm telling them the truth?

“Not without your Left Eye you wouldn't have.” Jeanne cuts back in, the accusatory tone returning to her voice. “Or rather, _couldn't_ have. Isn't that right?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fine, you're correct that I don't actually have the power to do that at the moment, so I suppose I'll have to give you that one. However...”

I turn towards Jeanne, matching her glare with one of my own. “For the... what, third time now? I _don't want_ the Left Eye! Nor the Right Eye for that matter! They aren't even mine to begin with!”

Jeanne opens her mouth, then closes it and blinks, seeming genuinely surprised.

“They're not?”

“No.” I testily reply. “Far as I can tell, the angels just wanted to use them to metaphorically kick me out of bed. In actuality, the Eyes of the World originally came from Aesir, former God of Chaos...”

My gaze slides back towards the other witch present.

“...who, FYI, is also the guy whose evil half has been possessing Balder for the past 500-odd years.”

It takes Bayonetta a moment to register that, but I can tell once she does, as her eyes noticeably widen behind her glasses. She starts to stand up-

“Before you ask, yes, that _is_ why he went completely nuts.” I preemptively state. “I suppose _I'm_ actually somewhat thankful for that, or I'd probably still be sealed away right now, but the Witch Hunts would not have happened, or at least not have escalated as far as they did, if not for your daddy dearest getting corrupted by the essence of a literal god.”

“Which is why I'm _actually_ here, in case anyone forgot.” I continue before I can be interrupted. “Because Balder is now sealed inside of _me_ , so is the half of Aesir's spirit that was sealed in him, and as that means he's essentially entwined with his own Right Eye at the moment, I can't exactly trust that it isn't compromised. So I came here, hoping that he-” I gesture at Rodin, “-might know how to ensure I'm not going to get taken over from within by the deific equivalent of a parasite, and preferably how to remove said parasite from myself entirely... and then you two barged in.”

A few locks of golden-blonde hair absently brush against the side of my face, prompting me to toss them back over my shoulder with an irritated flip of my hand.

"Starting to get the picture yet?”

“Hold on,” Bayonetta says, “go back to that bit about the God of Chaos.”

I groan. “Just research him yourself. My memories are so swiss-cheesed right now that I honestly don't know much more about him than I already told you.”

A flash of puzzlement crosses Bayonetta's face at that, but I don't plan on expounding on the subject — I'll leave her to make her own conclusions.

“Back to the point, I am literally _only_ here to talk to Rodin.” I finish. “That's _it_. Are we clear?”

I give Jeanne a pointed look, to which she “hmmphs” at me and crosses her arms.

“Pretending for a moment that we believe any of this,” Jeanne says, a touch less snidely than before, “why not just get rid of the Right Eye? From what you've claimed, you have no real desire for it anyways, so would that not be the obvious solution?”

I laugh humorlessly. “Oh, if only it were that simple. In fact, normally it might be — except, you know how my revival kind of got screwed up?”

“You mean the revival that would have involved my being sealed into you as well?” Bayonetta dryly replies. “You'll have to forgive me for not being particularly enthused with the idea.”

“You're forgiven.” I say with roughly equal sarcasm. “Because of that however, I am literally _only_ operating on the power of the Right Eye at the moment. Thus, if I remove it, there's a strong possibility I'll just slip right back into oblivion due to lacking any other energy source to keep myself awake.”

“And what's stoppin' you from fixin' that?”

I slowly turn towards Rodin.

“Um... the fact that forces strong enough to literally power a deity aren't exactly in high supply?” I reply after a moment, confusion coloring my words.

Rodin shrugs. “So go get your own.”

“...go get my own.” I dully repeat. “Did you not just hear- what do you mean _go get my_ -”

I pause mid-sentence.

Wait a second. Is he suggesting that-

Could I-

I think I could.

No. I know I could.

I laugh aloud, suddenly in much better cheer.

“Alright, fair point!” I exclaim, smiling even as I press my palm into the center of my forehead. “Don't know why I didn't think of that myself...”

Seriously, way to make me feel stupid. If I'd just thought over the issue for a little bit longer, I probably could have avoided coming here entirely.

“Sorry for wasting your time Rodin.” I continue, ignoring Jeanne as she loudly questions what the hell I'm on about. “I'll try not to do that again if I ever come back here.”

Rodin nods.

“Just make sure to actually buy something next time.” he grunts. “Ain't like you can't afford it.”

I'm not really one for alcohol or firearms, but I suppose that's fair. In fact-

I extend my hand, and a tiny sliver of my power breaks away from me, swirling over the bar before rapidly crystallizing into a massive set of gem-encrusted golden hoops.

“Consider that a tip for your assistance, however silly I now feel for having needed it.” I say before turning back to the witches, both of whom look rather baffled. “Regardless, I should really get started on this ASAP, so I suppose I'll go ahead and make myself scarce.”

And, since my emergency exit plan turned out not to be necessary...

Might as well leave in style, right?

My halo abruptly uncloaks itself, already shining like a miniature star. At the same time, I rapidly begin rising off the floor, reclining backwards onto nothing at all as though lounging upon an invisible throne.

Bayonetta immediately springs from her seat, while Jeanne's hands become encased in the massive clawed gauntlets of Kali. Fire and lightning surge along their serrated nails, promising pain to anything they touch — that is, until I send a spike of angelic energy directly into the weapon, causing the gauntlets' elemental effects to sputter out as the demon within recoils.

“Calm down, I _just_ said I was leaving, didn't I?” I ask as Jeanne speechlessly staggers back. “So jumpy...”

As I speak, a trio of impossibly intricate golden rings coalesce from the air around me. Encircling me like the wheels of an enormous gyroscope, they quickly begin rotating and orbiting around my person, each revolution coming faster and faster, until it looks more like I'm floating within a trio of sparkling ethereal spheres. Images of Paradiso shimmer into being upon their nonexistent surfaces, glimpses of surrealistic landscapes and fractal-like symbols surging into view before dispersing just as fast, forming an ever-moving, multilayered collage of the heavens themselves.

...mind, none of this is actually _doing_ anything besides making this process look significantly cooler than it otherwise might, but I honestly kind of feel like that's a decently important function in and of itself.

“Wait!” Bayonetta cries, shielding her eyes from the light show in progress.

Whatever it is she wanted to say, it's too late. Smiling down at the pair of witches, I give them both a single jaunty wave.

** 𝕾𝕰𝕰 𝖄𝕬 **  
** (See ya!) **

The wings of my halo sweep downwards, and with a flash like lightning and a crack like thunder, I vanish.


End file.
